Tales from the Celts
by PokingAngel
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring our favourite Celts: Ireland, Scotland and Wales! I have few stories up my sleeve but suggestions are welcome (and encouraged)! Guidelines and rules listed in the first chapter. Rated M for safety. Great summary huh?
1. Important Information

Rules for One Shots:

**NO INCEST PAIRINGS!** So no EnglandxScotland, no IrelandxWales etc. etc. etc. None of that. Any other pairings? Fine.

Must be relatively short ideas. Something that can be completed in fewer than three pages or so.

Suggestions can be anything from an actual story idea to a few key probe words. MUST involve the Celts in someway.

Suggestions can be historically based or just random scenes; doesn't have to be historically accurate or based.

Must stick to the M rating so I won't be writing any Lemons. Limes up to a certain point are okay. I won't write in heavy swearing (so no F words or C words).

Apart from that feel free to go crazy!


	2. Drinking Contest

_A/N- And the first one shot! Germany vs. Ireland in a drinking contest_

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"Yo Ireland! Glad you came!" America exclaimed throwing an arm over Ireland's shoulder forcing him into the door.

Ireland almost immediately regretted accepting America's invitation to join him and a few other countries at the bar. It was loud and crowded plus the bad combination of booze, cheap bar food and sick smell was overwhelming. Ireland glanced around trying to spot who else came. He spotted Prussia hitting on Hungary, Italy complaining to Japan about the lack of Italian food and Poland defending Liechtenstein yet again along with a few others Ireland wasn't quite familiar with yet.

"Ireland this is Germany! Your new best friend! You two are both very similar! He likes beer, you like beer. His main food source is potatoes, your main food source is potatoes. He has a cool accent, you have a cool accent-" America started.

"Yes danke America." Germany curtly interrupted. He hated when America started rambling.

"Well you two new best friends have fun now." And with a firm slap on their backs America set off to annoy his old friend England.

"So…" Ireland looked up and down the larger country. He mentally cursed once again at how short he was. He didn't really like Germany much since he was one of the countries that tried taking his home but America did have a point. They did share a fair amount of similarities. This gave him an idea. "Up for a drinking contest?"

Ireland was renowned for having a high tolerance for alcohol. He never lost a drinking contest; even against Scotland. However he heard that Germany was a strong drinker too. Two ancient countries, both heavy weight drinkers, in a drinking contest. Germany saw this as a worthy challenge. A smile even crept on his usually stone cold face. "Okay then. What do you wager?"

The red headed country thought a moment. "Hmm… if I win… " an evil smile flashed on his face, "you'll have to eat a portion of haggis!"

Germany's face went almost green from the thought but this gave him the indication he could push the stake up a bit. "Okay then if I win, you'll have to put on some lederhosen and dance around the Square for half an hour."

Ireland thought the lederhosen Germany used to wear were absolutely hideous. And he wasn't one for handling embarrassment well. However he was still confident he could still beat this large robot so he swiftly held his out with a quick, "Deal."

Germany took his hand and gave a firm shake as both men headed to the bar and took their seats. They came up with the rules: one pint of beer each and every drop out of the glass before moving onto the next pint. Then keep going until one of them passes out. First one to passes out, obviously, loses. The bar tender handed them their first pint and with the clink of the their glasses they began. First couple of drinks went down relatively quick. Their little contest soon caught the attention of the other countries around.

By the tenth round, the whole bar was gathered around them making their own bets as to who would win. America got so excited by the contest he even paid the bartender a huge sum of money to keep the contest going. It wasn't till the 20th drink that the two countries began feeling the alcohol taking effect. Their faces were starting to go a little pink and their vision a little blurry but they kept going. The whole bar was soon a drunken stupor. Four hours since the contest began the party began to die down. Ireland and Germany were still going, ignoring every possible health risk they were causing their bodies.

The rest of the bar had actually gotten bored. Half them had passed out on the floor and even the bar tender was beginning to nod off. He laid out five more drinks for them each before finding himself fast asleep in his chair.

"I recon…" Ireland slurred badly putting an arm around Germany's shoulder. "I vin."

"Don't be… don't be such… I vin!"

And then both of them fell backwards feeling sick as dogs. To this day neither of them knew who won and since the bartender and all witnesses fell asleep, there was no way of knowing.

"Oy oy! I 'eard there was a drinking contest going on without me!" Australia exclaimed bursting into the quiet bar. He blinked staring at the carnage of the drinking party before frowning. "Damnit! Stupid time zones…"

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_A/N- Short and sweet. Actually despite the length this was rather fun to type. I've always loved the idea of Germany and Ireland having a drinking competition. It was one of the first one-shot ideas I had. And after living in Australia for three months I learned Australia's are heavy drinkers as well which is why he gets a tiny cameo at the end. Hope you enjoyed it! Send me your suggestions so I can keep this going!_


	3. Some brother you are

_A/N- Alright new chapter! I'm on a roll. Sadly though this is really only because of where I am the internet is on and off so I've had nothing better to do. Anyways this was requested by Germanic Spazz and they asked for an angsty brotherly England and Scotland story. Admittedly this took me some time to come up with because I didn't want to copy the scene from Hetalia with America and England. However I think (I hope) this is good. I'm pretty happy with it. Lemme know and keep sending your suggestions!_

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Once again England was laying siege upon Scotland's home; trying to claim more of his land. The blonde country felt bad for attacking his brother, mainly because they were so unevenly matched. England had a huge trained Roman army whilst Scotland only had his few skilled tribesmen. If it weren't for the muddy plains the Romans weren't used to it would have been a bloodbath. Scotland fought hard against the invading army but for every man he struck down, three more seemed to appear.

And then, all of the sudden England had a change of heart as he saw one his archers aiming straight for Scotland's head. "NO DON'T SHOOT!" He ordered. England ran to knock the Archer's aim off however the shout only startled the archer causing him to fire. England screamed loudly as he watched the arrow penetrate Scotland's knee. This led to him falling as the other soldiers who were fighting him began taking advantage of this. They began kicking and beating the life out of the fallen country. England could not stand the sight of it all. He ran straight to Scotland side; shoving anyone, friend or foe, out of the way.

Then suddenly from out of the forest Aodh, Scotland's strong Elk knocked the soldiers off his beloved owner. England took this opportunity of chaos to grab the semi-conscious Scotland off the ground and drag him to the safety of his woods. Unfortunately Scotland was still a lot bigger than England making it incredibly hard for England to get away quickly. He slumped the pale country over his shoulder and proceeded to carry him into the woods hoping no one would see and report him for treachery against Ancient Rome.

The wet forest ground made the whole journey that much harder. England kept slipping under Scotland's weight. By the time he made it back to Scotland's home he was caked in mud and wet leaves as well as blood flowing from Scotland's wounds. By the time they got back, Scotland was unconscious and breathing very shallow.

"NO! You can't die!" England shouted as he began running around the small house looking for something to clean the wounds. He found some Scotch Whiskey and some old clothes he could use as bandages. "You stupid bastard! How could you let yourself get shot?!" England tore some of the clothes with his teeth before pouring the alcohol right on the wound, which made Scotland wake up from his half alive state screaming. Fearing someone might hear and find him there, England quickly shoved a stick in his mouth for Scotland to bite down on.

He had to clean these wounds and while Whiskey probably wasn't the best thing it was better than Scotland having to lose a limb later from infection. "Okay you stupid git, brace yourself." England warned.

England stared at the arrow in his brother's knee. It had gone straight through and look so painful. His archers were very good. Had it actually hit his head, Scotland would be dead. But this was still going to hurt… a lot. First he snap the wood so there was less to pull out then pushed down hard on the top of Scotland's knee as he began to slowly pull.

A strangled cry gurgled from Scotland's throat as he was near to snapping the stick in his mouth from the sheer pain. It pained England to watch his brother suffering so much. He never wanted this… he realized then how consumed by power he was. He… he led an attack against his defenseless brother. The same brother who helped raised him. And not to mention England's other crimes. Once the arrow was removed, England stood up to find a bowl for some water. He soaked one of the strips he tore in the water before placing it on Scotland's head, as he looked a little feverish.

England poured some more alcohol on the wound before lighting a candle then heating his blade over the small flame. Scotland raised his head as a split second of panic flashed in his eyes. England saw this but kept focusing on the blade. He grabbed another large stick and handed it to Scotland to replace the nearly broken one in his mouth; silently telling his brother this was going to hurt. Scotland only had a second before the hot blade made contact with the open wound. Scotland screamed loudly and writhed on the floor in agony. Tears rolled down his face and there were huge claw marks forming in the dirt floor.

Once the wound was burnt sealed, England poured a little water on it before wrapping his knee tightly. Scotland panted heavily from the intense pain before eventually passing out again leaving England to finish bandaging the rest of the wounds in peace. A few hours later, Scotland awoke to find a fire had been lit in the hearth and some food was lying beside him on a plate. The large country attempted to sit up but pain wracked his body forcing him to lie still.

"Oh good you're up." England smiled entering the room. In his arms he held some firewood and some bundles of clothes he gathered from the dead on the battlefield. "I just need to change the bandaging, you've bleed through the first ones already."

Scotland gave a low growl. Despite the fact that England had gone through all the trouble of saving him and nursing back to health, he had every right not to trust his younger brother. For all he knew, he was just helping him so he'd be strong enough to work again but weak enough not to fight back. England sighed. He knew what his brother was feeling. Especially after Ireland's banishment, Scotland had been on edge with England; almost uncharacteristically… He was always the calm, level headed one… Guess it only made sense.

England knelt down by his brother's side again and began changing the bandages. "I'm… sorry…"

"Then fix everything!" Scotland barked making England wince a little. "Bring Ireland and give us back our homes!"

"I… I can't… I'm under Ancient Rome's rule…" England actually blinked back a few tears. He so badly wanted to fix everything. "He'll beat me… or worse… For defying him…"

"So you'd rather sit on the throne of power and watch the rest of us suffer under your rule?! Some brother you are…"

Those words stabbed England deep inside his heart. Scotland had every right to hate him… England sat shaking still holding the bandages in his hands. He didn't know what to say to that so he just silently finished changing the bloody wraps. Scotland just turned his head away gritting his teeth in anger. He was in too much pain to attack England right now.

"There… that should do it…" England quietly announced as he sat back. "Don't touch them till tomorrow and try not to move too much. This should help." From his pocket, England drew out a small blue bottle. His teeth clamped around the cork as he pulled it out then spat it out on the ground. Then, very gently he slipped his hand under Scotland's thick brown hair and raised his head a little to help him drink. "It's a healing potion I whipped up. Won't heal your wounds instantly but it'll speed up the process. You should be right as rain in a few days."

"…Thank you…" Scotland quietly grumbled.

"I promise to hold off any attacks till then." England slipped the empty bottle back into his pocket. Just then Ancient Rome's voice echoed through the large forest. He was looking for England. "I have to go or he'll surely punish us both."

As England stood, Scotland managed to shoot his arm out to grab England's leg. "No, please just stay! You don't have to go back!" As much Scotland despised his brother for what he was doing, he hoped there was a small part of his child like self left.

"ENGLAND!" Ancient Rome shouted even louder this time. He sounded angry.

"I'm sorry, I just can't." England easily broke away from Scotland's grip as he ran towards Ancient Rome's shouting voice.

At that very moment Aodh returned and laid by Scotland's side to protect him. Scotland slowly raised a hand to pet the great Elk's neck. Through the various cracks in the door he watched his little blonde brother running back to that monster. Memories of when he was just a child flashed before his eyes. He missed those days… but knew they would never return. And with those sad thoughts running through his mind he closed his eyes and fell asleep as a few tears rolled down his cheeks.

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_A/N- I could not resist the arrow to the knee thing but I decided to show how painful it would be. Poor Scotland. I do enjoy tormenting characters. Hope you liked it!_


	4. A Day in the Life of Culann

_A/N- Had this idea when I started writing these One-Shots and thought a story about Culann would be cute. So this is a lighthearted story. Enjoy!_

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The morning sun hits my eyes interrupting what was a beautiful dream about hunting deer in the meadow. I couldn't help licking my chops imaging their sweet gamey taste. _Hmm… Might be a good idea to go do that now… _Everyone's still asleep no doubt. I yawn showing off my massive jaws before standing up and shaking any hay loose of my black fur. _I do hate sleeping in the barn. I'm not a horse! I am Culann the great! _I frown realizing no was around to hear my little proclamation… apart from the horses that is who just laugh. I snarl and lunge towards them to teach them a lesson in respect.

No animal laughs at me and gets away with it! Just as expected they rear up and whiny like cowards. I wasn't really going to bite them… well unless they stood still. If that was the case, it'd be there own fault for not moving. Proud of my work, I raise my tail and strut out of the barn like I owned it… which I kind of did. Leaning forward I stretch my paws out cracking each tired bone in my spine before giving a good shake. The crisp fall air hits my nose instantly reviving all my senses. I feel alive and ready for a hunt. The American, while a bumbling idiot, did have one advantage. He had lots of land. And lots of fertile land full to the brim with livestock.

Admittedly I do wish for a bit of a challenge but it was between having to chase prey for a few days and having a full stomach almost every day. I quite prefer the latter thank you very much. Ireland says I'm getting lazy. _Pfft, I'd like to see him be a wolf… knowing his luck he'd die from starvation with the inability to catch anything. _America's forests are nothing like the ones back home. They're smaller and almost every corner has been tread upon by humans. In Ireland's home there was still parts of the forest that had been untouched even by Ireland himself! That was mainly due to our agreement that certain parts of the forest are off limits but still. It wasn't the same.

Humans reeked and everything they touch reeks too so in other words, America's forest reeks of humans. It bothers my nose too much. I can only stay in the forest no longer than half a day. However at least today the cold air hides most of the smells. There's even a bit of frost on the ground providing a delightful crunch as I stalk the forest floor. Granted this isn't so good for hunting as my prey can hear my coming but I can use this my advantage. I'll scare them into a frenzy then chase them! Yes that'll make the hunt most interesting this morning.

_Oh? And looky here, not an hour in and already I smell my first prey. Three deer; two does and a stag._ I set my mind on capturing the stag. They always have the best meat and provide the best challenge. Especially if they decide to fight! I roll my shoulders as I crouch low and slowly begin to crawl through the damp leaves and mud. Most of the frost has melted giving me a little more silence. I then spot a twig just before my face. I'm about a meter away now… I can just see the tips of the Stag's antlers. Perfect. I crack the twig catching their attention before bursting through the bush.

They give a delightful scream and begin scattering. The two does already split but I could care less about them. It's the stag I want. I follow the stag's zig zag pattern through the trees. I know what he's doing. He thinks because I'm a foreigner I won't know my way around and will end up crashing into a tree. Well I know my way well enough and my senses are still sharp. But then out of no where there's a huge BANG and the stag trips and falls. At the speed he was running, the momentum carried him tumbling another few feet before he finally stops and lays on the ground crying.

Confused I run to his side and look down. There's… There's a hole in his neck! And he's bleeding! While it was my intention to kill him, this surprises me! I've never seen such a thing. And then… I hear a very… very irritable voice… and I know who's exactly to blame for stealing my kill.

"Dude! Did you see that shot?! Did ya? Did ya? Did ya?!" America repeated shouted shaking the poor Canada back and forth.

"That was quite a shot Mr. America…" Canada replies quietly.

I sit down annoyed. I almost had that stag! It was my kill. I wait for America to come charging in to give him a bit of what for. Ireland wasn't around to stop me either this time. I lowly growl as I hear his thunderous footsteps approach. No wonder the big oaf needs a gun; he wouldn't be able to catch anything with his "stealth" techniques.

"Oh! Hey puppy! Did you see that shot?! It was awesome wasn't it?!" America beams as he examines the now dead deer (by my jaws I might add so it wouldn't suffer).

_"Yes I did! You took my kill!" _I bark at him angrily before lunging at him. And this in particular is why I hate this country. He sees my barking as me "talking friendly" to him and my lunging… as giving him a hug…

"Aww you wanna congratulate me with a hug how sweet! Come here you big lug!" I really gotta learn not to lunge at this buffoon. He wraps his arms around and gives me a huge hug. I wish he could understand me. Especially when he takes my barking and growling as hug tighter. And he always seems to have that perfect angle where I can't get a good bite or scratch on him.

"Um I don't think he likes that…" Canada chimes in. Glad someone has some common sense.

"What?! What are you talking about Canada? See he's smiling!" _Oh yes, baring my teeth is me smiling._ The only thing I could be smiling about in his arms is the thought of ripping his face off when he puts me down. I was just about to do so too when my friend Ireland calls my name. I frown. He always seems to know when I'm up to no good… Begrudgingly I sulk off pretending to being nice and leaving America to continue celebrating his kill.

_"What do you want?" _I snarl at Ireland. I'm clearly not in a good mood…

The raven haired country only chuckles. "Well good morning to you Mr. Sunshine and Rainbows. Another encounter with America I presume?"

I'm pretty sure if I had eyebrows, they'd be twitching by now at the sound of his name. Instead my fur just bristles. _"The bugger stole my kill! I had a beautiful stag lined up in my sights ready for the kill and America just shoots it! And then claimed it as his own…"_

"Ah well, how about some fresh cow instead? I managed to buy one just for you! Haven't even killed it yet if you want at least a small hunt." Ireland starts walking towards the barn I slept in before opening a door to a medium size black and white cow.

_"Its not the same…" _I mutter as I enter the pen. Upon seeing a wolf nearly its size, the cow freaks out and tries to escape. I let it run past me and out the door pretending to count my claws. After about three seconds I charge after it and take it down in under a minute. See? Not the same at all… oh well at least I have some breakfast. Politely I drag the dead carcass to the edge of the woods. _What? Just because I'm a wolf doesn't mean I always have bad manners. I just enjoy eating in peace… and away from that bloody America…_

After a well deserved meal I begin wandering around the house looking for something to do. Particularly someone to troll. _Lets see… who haven't I scared lately? Hmm… well yesterday I gave France a heart attack by tearing up his uniform… and the day before that I scared Italy by hiding in his bed… followed quickly by Germany by pretending to "eat" Italy… Ah good times, good times… Well Canada's always good for an easy scare. Maybe I'll go for his polar bear pet. Yeah that's it._

Off I went to go find the little polar bear. It wasn't too hard to find. He was just sitting docile outside on a table sipping some tea Canada made for him. This time I was careful to stay quiet. Every footstep was calculated as I slithered through the bushes silently. The Polar Bear hadn't a single clue! I smiled as I stood on my hind legs and rested my paws on the back of his chair making me nearly Russia's height. Nearly. Suddenly I felt a cold dark present behind my back. Not many people had that presence and there was only one who made me stick my tail between my legs like a puppy.

Russia.

Slowly I turn my head, ignoring my prey, as I stare into the clearly psychotic country's smile. "Hello puppy." He greets in his both charming and cold accent. "What you doing?"

It is at this moment Canada returns with the cakes he ran off to get. Seeing both Russia and I leaning over his poor defenseless bear actually made him freak out. It was the first time I ever saw Canada take action against something. Although as intriguing as this action was, he still sounded like a wimp with his quiet accent. "Get away from him you brutes!" I couldn't help but snicker as he started throwing the cakes in our general direction. I decided to take the opportunity to escape Russia and grab some cake.

Except then Russia started following me, much to Canada's relief. Russia following someone was never good so I sped off into the woods to hopefully enjoy my cake in peace.

"Are you okay my little friend?!" Canada asked scooping the small polar bear up into his arms.

"Who are you?" The bear asked… again…

Canada sighed, "I'm Canada…"

After that little snack, I found a lovely path of sun in a clearing and couldn't resist a quick nap. _What? I like naps every now again too! Cats aren't the only ones._ Around 4:30 in the afternoon I awake again from my growling stomach. Seems the small cow and cake weren't enough so I head down to the river in search of some fresh Salmon. America does have some lovely juice salmon. Plus there might be some bears I can have a tussle with! _Hmm note to self, Ireland and I haven't fought in a while… best do that soon or else the boy might get lazy…_

Sadly the bears weren't in such a playful mood as I and even less reluctant to share their fishing grounds. I could have very easily killed one of them but despite my size, a whole pack of bears is really difficult without my own pack to help defend my hide. I do miss them… _I wonder how they're doing without me…_ I shake my head. These are not times for depressing thoughts to weigh me down. I need to stay strong… for Ireland's sake.

Well I did manage to find a small rabbit to nibble on and that seemed to satisfy my stomach a little. Being fall the sun is already beginning to set, painting the sky with bright hues of purple and orange. Best go find Ireland now. Haven't seen the bugger since this morning. I sneak in through the kitchen door as the staff are busy preparing dinner. Technically I'm not allowed inside the house but that's never stopped me. And most of the staff never try. Especially when I flash them my lovely pearly whites. That usually sends them in the opposite direction. Usually…

"PUPPY!" America's voice screeches as I feel him dive onto my back and wrap his arms around my stomach.

_DAMNIT! HOW DID I NOT SMELL HIM COMING?! _He picks me up in his signature hug. I struggle greatly, thrashing my razor sharp claws and trying my best to bite his neck but all I seem to be catching is the hideous wall paper and doors. Then Ireland chuckles turning the corner before leaning on the wall a fair distance away from us.

"You know he doesn't like that America." Ireland warned but more in a light hearted way knowing nothing he says will stop America from giving Culann the hug of death.

"But this poor puppy just had an encounter with Russia! He's probably traumatized!" America squealed.

_"And in about five seconds if you don't put me down you'll be traumatized by the lack of limbs you'll have when I'm through with you!" _Ireland, being able to understand my death threat, merely shakes his head knowing that's going to happen. Suddenly my stomach growls causing the large country actually stop shaking me from side to side.

"Aww poor puppy, you must be starving! I'll go to the kitchen and get you something to eat!" He sets me down and starts heading towards the kitchen.

My fur bristles in anger, _"Only cause you STOLE MY KILL EARLIER!" _ With his back turned I lunge straight for him.

"Oh look a penny!" America exclaims bending down.

I was not expecting that. It threw my entire jump off causing me to go crashing through the window just beside him. America lifts his head slightly confused at the sound of the window breaking. Ireland ran to his side and the two countries watched me storm off into the forest.

"Why'd he do that? Is he okay?" America asked.

"I'll go check on him."

I found the clearing I had napped in before however since the sun had now disappeared over the horizon leaving only a few light strands in the sky I moved just to the edge of to keep warm. There I proceed to pick the glass out of my skin with my teeth before licking each wound clean. It didn't hurt that much. I've had worse. Just as I finished my front paws my ears perk up at the sound of someone approaching. I freeze for a moment until the intruder's smell hits my nose. Its just Ireland. I go back to picking glass out as he sits down by my side.

"You're getting old my friend." He opens with as he sits down near my rear and begins picking out the glass shards that are difficult for me to reach.

_"Oh shut up… you're not getting much younger either." _I snap.

Ireland merely smiles as he continues his work. "Yes that may be true however I'm still not one to jump out the window."

_"He ducked! I swear that country is surrounded by dumb luck! I can't seem to ever lay a claw on him!" _ Fuming, I proceed to lick some of the wounds harder and faster. _"It clear he's your nephew** alright! Dumb like England yet lucky like you."_

Ireland blinked a moment. In all the time he had been here he never realized America was his nephew. Made sense. He laughed as he continued grabbing the small pieces of glass. Once he finished he began softly stroking my fur. Ireland's the only person I really allow to "pet" me. I'd never admit it to him but it does feel nice when he's gentle. So to keep him from getting that idea, I quickly spin around and give him a quick nip on his arm.

"You old mutt!" Ireland wrapped his arms around my head and bit my ear playfully. It wasn't long before we were in another wrestling match. I did love these times. He was like a puppy. I could bite and scratch him without fear of really hurting him. Eventually we settle down. He lays down against my fur and stares up into the stars.

"At least one thing looks the same as home…" The blue eyed country mutters.

I simply close my eyes. We both miss home so much… Soon he's fast asleep against me. I sigh before curling around him to keep him warm. It's a bit chilly tonight but he doesn't seem to mind too much. I glance up at the stars as well. Soon… we'll be home…

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_* Technically given Ireland raised England as a brother, that would make America is nephew (since England raised America as his brother as well)._

_This was rather fun to type. I don't usually use 1st Person (mainly because I don't like it) but it was a good challenge. Anyways, please review and submit your suggestions! I have a few more ideas and usually gain ideas but I'd love to hear from you! _


	5. Victorian Scotland

_N/A- I am so, so sorry this took me a long time to complete. I was rather busy and to be honest I actually kind of struggled trying to compose this story. This idea was suggested by Mary of Guelders in which Queen Victoria's got annoyed that she kept spending so much time in Scotland during the Victorian Age. I really hope I achieved that._

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Queen Victoria sat sighing by her window. She was supposed to be happy, after all it was the glorious age of industry and Britain was leading the way in technology. However the increase in production also lead to an increase in a lot of other problems. The biggest one was smog. London was so saturated with the thick grimy fumes and it was making a lot of people sick. Not to mention how work conditions were appalling. She wished there was more she could do but alas she was merely the pretty face on a stamp. Her advisors really ruled the land.

It was supposed to be happy times but all she could see in her people was sadness. The Queen longed to get away for a while. So, one day she did. Ignoring all the advise from her advisor, Victoria had her things packed up and she went on holiday. Maybe sometime in the clean fresh air would do her some good and give her some clarity as to how to help her people prosper healthily. But where could she go? She didn't really want to go far from her home just in case she was needed but she didn't really want to stay in England since most of it was the same as London.

Then she remembered meeting a lovely country at function recently. He had long auburn hair, gorgeous green eyes and was very well built. Oh what was his name…? Scotland! Yes that's it. Queen Victoria settled on going to Scotland's house for her holiday. She heard it was the greenest part of the British Isles with rolling hills and mountains covered in snow. And best of all, there was still some parts untouched by the dreaded smog. It would be perfect.

Scotland was rather surprised to see the current Queen of England standing on his doorstep one gray afternoon. He had been working out in the fields and was most certainly not dressed for royalty. Then he became nervous. If the Queen was here was he in some sort of trouble? He tried thinking back to if he done anything. Well there was that time he put grass in England's teapot but surely that wouldn't warrant an arrest or an attack. Or maybe this is revenge for that time he switched England's shampoo with red hair dye.

He then realized he had been standing there without saying a word, "Beggin' your pardon your majesty. What can I do for ye?"

"No need to be so formal." With that she smiled. "I apologize for turning up unannounced but I just needed to get away. The city was getting too stuffy."

"Oh, well come in, come in." The tall country ushered the queen into his humble home. "Sorry, if I had known you were coming I would have straightened up a wee bit."

The Queen was used to luxury; there was no denying that. Everything was pristine clean in her palace and everything was just so to the exact millimeter. But Victoria found the country's rustic cottage very warm and charming. Sure there was dirt on the floor and a lot of stuff was covered in dust but it felt very well lived in… like a home should. She smiled, "no its absolutely perfect. Can I ask though, don't you have… a bigger house…? Like the rest of the countries?" Victoria did her best not to blush. It was improper for a lady to blush.

Scotland only smiled and with a chuckled replied, "I do have one, its closer to the border. I just don't like it. It's so big… and lonely. I really only get visits from Ireland and Wales… and the odd visit from those Scandinavians. I much prefer my small country home. You're welcome to stay in my manor if you'd like."

"Thanks for the offer however I'd rather not. I came here to escape the city, not be reminded of it. Actually do you have anymore of these cottages?" The Queen asked politely with a smile.

"Sure I do! Oh and I even built the perfect one just for you recently. It's a small cottage just on the edge of the lake and surrounded by a field of wild flowers."

"That sounds absolutely perfect."

Queen Victoria had a carriage waiting outside the front of Scotland's cottage. The two headed down discussing the wonders of this lush green land. Needless to say the Queen was mesmerized. Scotland jumped into the front of the carriage beside the driver as the Queen climbed inside. He guided the small thin man to the small house he had described to the Queen. Excitement welled within the young Queen as they approached the place.

The cottage was made of stone and wood and a fairly decent size. It was rectangle shaped with an arched thatched roof of straw. Beside it was a small wooden shed surrounded by stacked unused flowerpots. The Queen actually considered possibly doing some gardening. She loved to garden but she never had any time with all her official duties. Scotland led her inside carrying, helping the driver carry in her trunk. Inside was a little cleaner than Scotland's home. There was a small living space with a large fireplace and a small kitchen attached to that. A solid oak door separated the main room from a cozy bedroom.

It had a small bed with thick cotton duvet and blanket covering it and two white pillows. There was a dresser with four large drawers and a water jug and bowl for washing on top. The window over looked the flowers and the road to the house. At the moment a thick fog was settling so all she could see were the flowers right out the window but she didn't mind. This place was going to be great for her health. The pure smell of fresh air alone was comforting. She felt free and alive for the first time in a long time.

"Thank you very much Scotland. I hope its not too much trouble, staying here." Queen Victoria smiled with her hands folded over her frock.

"Nope, no trouble at all ma'am. You can stay here as long as you like. There's some cheese in the cupboard. I'll come around tonight with some more food. Anything you fancy?"

"Tea if possible." While beautiful, Scotland's home was rather on the chilly side and a nice hot cup of tea sounded like the perfect puzzle piece to complete this paradise.

The large country left with a nod and as promised returned later that night with a large basket of food. Potatoes, carrots, eggs, salted pork, dried fruit, some cakes, two loaves of bread and of course a bag of tea leaves. It was simple and would be considered peasant food back in London but who said peasant food couldn't be good? Victoria sliced some bread with a bit of cheese and had a nice cup of tea with one of the cakes. With a roaring fire going in the living room, the Queen curled up under one of the woolen blankets and read a book.

As the days went on, Victoria grew more and more in love with the country. Almost everyday Scotland came to visit her; usually bringing another basket of food. Queen Victoria even started preparing meals for him when he came over. And as she wanted, she got to do some gardening. In the wooden shed, along with several logs of wood for the fire, were some gardening tools. With Scotland's permission she made herself a small garden around the house, using stones to separate the garden from the field.

There was a small market an hour away by carriage, which the Queen quite enjoyed visiting every few days. There was where she bought the seeds for her new garden. And there she picked up some beautiful Scottish Salmons. Soon word spread of the Queen's hiding spot, as she knew it would eventually. However her presence there only drew in tourists. Many English people began visiting the essentially uninhabited land.

However her advisors were not pleased. Their Queen continually left her royal duties to spend time in that once barbaric country. Finally after her sixth return from the North, they confronted her. They demanded she no longer see Scotland as it could damage her reputation as Queen and other such negative things they could muster. They even went as far as trying to close Scotland's border. But the Queen would have none of it. Being Queen she was able to make a new law, which allowed her to visit Scotland at least every six months.

Her advisors were half right; she still had her civic duties to uphold however she felt more capable of doing them after the cleansing air of Scotland's home. She fell in love with the country so much she even hired a Scottish butler who soon became her personal favorite. The Queen visited Scotland as much as she could until the day she died and Scotland always remembered her fondly.

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_A/N- Half tempted to re-write this one if enough feedback says I should. I hope you enjoy and keep those suggestions coming! I will do my best to keep working on them as quickly as possible!_


	6. For the love of Dragons

_A/N- Let's consider this either a Boxing Day or Christmas Day present (depending on what timezone you're in). This was a request from a Guest saying how there weren't any Wales stories yet so how about a WalesxChina or WalesxJapan or WalesxNew Zealand story since they all love Dragons. I was greatly tempted to do the WalesxNZ story however I wasn't sure on how to write NZ's character so I went for WalesxChina instead. _

_I had been meaning to write a Wales story so this request fit in perfectly. I also prefer Fem!Wales... since that's how I designed her lol. Wales has always been a girl in my head so if you want a yaoi, I'd address it as Male!Wales. _

_Anyways enjoy!_

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Pendragon draped himself over Wales's shoulders as the two strolled down a warm spring path. The small red dragon loved warming his red scales in the sunshine. Wales smiled as she pet his head. The mute country much preferred him when he was small. Despite the fact he could change into a large ferocious dragon, he was quite a small creature. Often when people approached he'd dive down her dress and wait till they left his sense of smell. It made Wales laugh how cute her pet could be. That's why she made him her nation's flag. The two were walking down to the southern shore of her home where Pendragon could change into his full size in peace.

It was a beautiful warm summer day; very rare which is why Wales took full advantage of it. Pendragon jumped off her shoulders as the smell of salty water saturated the air. He flapped his wings and steadily began growing larger. Wales gripped her straw hat as his now full sized wings shot a huge gust of wind in her direction. She couldn't help but laugh despite being pelted with sand. He flew around a couple of turns while Wales set up a small picnic blanket for her to sit on. As she got settled into a good book Pendragon made a strange almost squawk like noise; the sound he usually made when he was scared.

As she looked up to check on him, a voice spoke up, "Wow what an amazing Dragon!"

Now it was Wales's turn to squeak in surprise. She stood to her feet clutching her book. On the path leading down to the beach stood an unfamiliar country. He, or at least she believed it was a he, had long black hair tied into a pony-tail and dressed in a peculiar red dress. He seemed friendly enough but as expected Pendragon was soon shrunk down to a snake size and hiding down the back of Wales' dress. This made China laugh. Wales blushed a little gently petting Pendragon through her dress. The strange country walked down the path right up to Wales.

"My name's China. What's yours?" China asked with a warming smile.

Wales opened her mouth to speak but then sadly closed it again. She often forgot she couldn't speak properly anymore, if at all. It often meant she was very lonely. At least she had her two older brothers who were sympathetic towards her condition.

"What's the matter? Can't speak?" He asked half joking and half not.

The mousy brown haired country shook her head before opening her mouth slightly and pointing in trying to convey why. China cocked his head a moment trying to work out her body language before he caught sight of the fact there was no hue of pink inside her mouth.

"Oh… you have no tongue…" China said sympathetically.

Wales lowered her head. No doubt that'd freak this new country out and send him running home. Besides she heard of how busy this country was. He'd probably have no time for little old her.

"Actually I think that's quite nice." He smiled. The young woman looked up slightly confused. "Now I don't have to worry about you ordering me around!" He gave a hearty laugh as she sighed at his bad joke but she couldn't help smiling. I guess it was a good advantage for him.

Settling down China reached into his robe and pulled out a small round basket woven from bamboo. A savory smell emitted from it causing Pendragon to come crawling out of Wales's sleeve, sniffing curiously. China smiled opening the box revealing some home made dumplings. Pendragon cautiously approached growing in size until he was once again full grown; towering over China. The long-haired country held the box up gladly which Pendragon snatched in one gulp happily. The dragon figured if someone could make such delicious food and give it willingly he mustn't be a threat. Slowly he lowered his head down allowing China to stroke his fine scales.

"Dragons can't resist my special pork dumplings. Especially my boss."

_"Your boss is a dragon?"_ Wales wanted to ask.

China could read her face like an open book, "Yes he is. But enough about him. How about you? I still don't know your name…"

Wales bit her lip trying to figure out how to tell him. And then suddenly, Pendragon spoke up, "Her name is Wales."

Both Wales and China's eyes widen. Wales never knew Pendragon could speak and China was impressed he could understand the dragon. Most pets could only be understood by their masters and a few close neighboring countries. Pendragon turned his head to Wales looking actually sad.

"Forgive me mistress… I couldn't speak until I was older but I didn't want to because I didn't want to make you feel bad for not being able to reply…" Pendragon explained dreading Wales's anger.

Wales couldn't help smiling as she hugged her pet tightly. It was such a sweet gesture. With this new revelation out of the way Pendragon gently nudged Wales towards China with a smile. The two started walking with Pendragon following behind. China explained how he was here trying to escape from England for a bit but how he was really lost. He then began talking about his homeland. It all sounded so fascinating and foreign to Wales. Due to her condition she had never really left home.

Where he could, Pendragon would answer some of China's questions. To Wales it almost felt like she was in the middle of a conversation between Pendragon and China. More than anything right now she hated England for doing this to her. She wanted to talk to China; share a normal conversation. She had the words in her head. Seeing her frustration China suddenly got an idea. He knelt down and dug around in his brown satchel before removing a large leather bound, sketch book made of parchment paper and a quill and ink he got from England.* Handing the items to the young woman she instantly knew what he was telling her to do. She flipped the cover back and wrote her first sentence.

**"Thank You!"**

And to further her gratitude she stood up on her toes and gave the country a quick kiss on the cheek. China went bright red watching Wales furiously begin scribbling on the pad before handing it to China to read. Her writing was on the poorer side but no doubt with practice she'd get better. The two found a quiet spot to finish their picnics passing notes back and forth. Wales couldn't be happier. Deep down she knew China would have to go home again soon but for right now she enjoyed every second of being with someone else, apart from her brothers, who finally understood and accepted her.

As the sun began setting Wales rested her head in China's lap staring up at the darkening purple hues of the creeping night. Several torn out pages of the sketch book lay scattered around leaving Wales with only half a sketch book left. Pendragon had left a while ago to go find a sheep to snack on leaving the two countries alone. China gently stroked her thick brown hair with a smile. He too had so much fun even though barely a word was spoken.

Just when everything seemed perfect, a strong wind blew through the trees disturbing the semi-conscious couple. Looking up China could see his boss flying over head signifying it was time to go. Slowly he sat up careful to slide Wales off his lap without hitting her head.

"I am sorry Wales. I must go now. Thank you for a wonderful time and I hope to see you again soon." China sadly said with a tender kiss on her head.

Wales knew she would not be able to write a reply in time before he had to go but she also knew she had to summon up her gratitude and feelings in one quick action. So with that she stood with him before cupping his face and kissing him to the best of her ability. She never kissed someone before but she felt China deserved her first kiss. It was at this moment that both Pendragon and China's boss landed and stared jaws dropped. Wales pulled away pursuing her lips and watching China's face for a reaction.

The older country was bright red and completely shocked however there was a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Needless to say he wasn't expecting that… not to say he didn't enjoy it. Just before he could go in for a second one, his boss scooped him up saying there was work to be done back at England's house. Wales stood on grass watching with a smile as China flew off into the night. Pendragon silently stood by her side. A small tear rolled down her face yet she was still smiling. Hopefully they'd meet again sometime soon.

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_A/N- Teehee I do have a soft spot for sad fluff. I actually had a lot of fun writing this. Just some notes in case you haven't read my other Fanfic in which these characters are from._

_*As punishment for siding with her brothers (Scotland and Ireland) instead of him, England cut out her tongue and fed it to his tongues so she can't speak and can only use signs which are written in both English and Welsh._

_I hope this is what you wanted! Please read and review and keep sending your story ideas! Oh for future reference on romance stories, if there's a certain type you want (like lime or fluff) be sure to say cause if not stated I'll probably just write a fluff story as a default safety._


	7. Language Wars

_A/N- HI GUYS! Phew, must say this was a difficult chapter to complete. I know its been a while since my last update but with Christmas and my new job its been difficult to work on my one shots but I'm now determined to start writing again! Anyways this is a request by CaledoniaRoma for a story about Scotland and Ancient Rome's war with each other. I hope you enjoy!_

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**_Scotland_**. A majestic tribe that lived off the luscious, rolling green hills. A land that still remained mostly uninhabited. This large island was home to three siblings; Ireland, Wales and of course Scotland. While Ireland was the oldest, Scotland was certainly the strongest and the wisest- therefore commonly seen as the ruler of the tribes. And then one day, Ireland found a small child: another a country to be exact. The three of them raised him as their fourth sibling. And for a while, things were good.

But this wouldn't be much of a story if everything remained good. On this particular morning, Scotland awoke with a sense that today would not be the same as the others. That unsettling feeling continued to grow and grow as the hours crawled by. He kept looking over his shoulder though he wasn't sure why. Ireland and Wales just called him crazy as they enjoyed their lunch on a hill overlooking the sea. England seemed a little tense too but was better at keeping it to himself.

"Hey look at those clouds!" Wales suddenly shouting pointing out to sea.

Color trained from Scotland's face. He didn't like the look of the square clouds steadily growing larger. "I think we should go…"

"No way! I wanna see what it is!" Ireland exclaimed.

Scotland cautiously watched with his siblings. He tried convincing himself that these were just friendly foreigners. Possibly lost. Maybe all they wanted was some directions or a place to rest for the night. This was the first time they were ever exposed to other people. Maybe the people on the boats were other countries! Once the boats got within hearing range, Scotland let out a loud booming, "HELLO!" What he didn't realize was, these foreigners didn't speak his language. The next thing they knew there was a loud angry roar erupting from the boats. Ireland, Wales, Scotland and England each exchanged confused glances.

As the boats approached the cliffs they could see a glimmer of raised weapons. They were trying to invade! But not being familiar with the land brought about a huge disadvantage. They were at the cliffs with no visible point of access to the mainland. This basically made them sitting ducks. Wales quickly grabbed her bow and began unleashing arrows upon the small army while Ireland used magic to mess with the boat a little. Scotland decided to go for a slightly different approach and began knocking down huge chunks of rock to rock the boat and start turning them away.

Sure enough, they started retreating. Wales, Ireland and England celebrated their victory but Scotland felt uneasy... like this was way too easy…

"They'll be back…" Scotland muttered.

"Ah lighten up little brother! After a beating like that I'm sure they won't want to come back ever again!" Ireland chirped.

Oh how Scotland wished he was wrong. Sure enough one year later, the Romans returned and this time with a vengeance. Within a matter an hour they were all apprehended and England was taken away from them. Now bound and chained, they watched as the great and might Roman Empire stood over them. Ireland struggled the most having been the closest to England. The large country made some non-understandable orders before the siblings were dragged away from each other.

Scotland could only watch in pain as his older brother was flung onto a boat and sent to the near by, uninhibited island. As the soldiers began to settle into camps around the coast, Scotland was summoned to Ancient Rome's tent. His arms bound in thick chains he was thrown onto his knees before the tall man. Rome smirked looking down at the helpless barbarian. It was clear Scotland was a strong country and once broken would be a valuable asset to his growing empire.

"Would you like some wine?" Ancient Rome offered pouring a small glass.

The Celt couldn't understand a word Rome was saying to him. It sounded like gibberish. And it looked like the country was offering him a cup of animal's blood! What kind of people were these foreigners?! Scotland tried crawling away but with Ancient Rome being a bit bigger than him, he caught Scotland by the head and poured some of the drink in his mouth causing the younger country to cough and splutter. It tasted horrible!

Ancient Rome only laughed. It was clear the other country was very confused and very frightened. He was a man who enjoyed cruelty, which was very apparent in some of the torture devices, he and the previous rulers of his land invented.

"Just let me and my siblings go!" Scotland roared angry and tired.

That damn language barrier. Scotland received a hard slap across the face with Rome's crop for shouting such disrespectful things at him (even though the larger country hadn't a clue what Scotland even said). Scotland spat out some blood which only received another whip; this time across his shoulder where he had been shot with an arrow earlier. Scotland howled in pain which caused him to receive yet another lashing. While Ireland and Scotland had sparred many times, he had never received such a cruel and pointless beating like this before. Who beats a man on his knees?!

Finally Scotland lay still on the Roman rug exhausted and bleeding from many lacerations. He couldn't understand what was going on or why Ancient Rome was abusing him like this. Was this just some weird Roman custom? He seemed to laugh each time it happened. Scotland would have loved nothing more than to fight back. He wanted to. This man separated him from his family! _"And if Rome's treating me like this… then what is he doing to England?!" _That thought scared him most of all. England was just a child yet; he couldn't survive such an intense treatment.

That thought gave Scotland strength to attempt to stand again. This time the crop was replaced with Rome's sword. He may not have recognized it but Scotland could tell it was very sharp and not a tool to mess with. He had to plan this carefully. He attempted a to charge with his shoulder hoping to pin Rome down and strangle him with his arm. But Rome saw this coming and at the last second side stepped out of the way and hit Scotland on the back of his head with the pommel of his sword.

The last thing Scotland could hear was Rome ordering his men to do something… "Take him up North. The cold air should cool him down."

When Scotland came through he found he was freezing. There was a cold mist in the air. The large country wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to keep warm. It took some time for Scotland to gain his bearings. He had once travelled up here in search of food. There were many caves around that he could hide in until he could find his way back down. Luckily he managed to find one nearby but it was still a miserable night. The cave was cold and damp and he struggled to get a fire going.

His mind was also plagued with terrible visions of what Wales and England were possibly being put through. They were so young and vulnerable! Scotland vowed to save them. Nearly every day he went down and attacked Ancient Rome with a few of his men. The attempts barely made a dent in the army's numbers however it was enough for Rome to build a small wall in a feeble attempt to keep him out. Scotland easily jumped over it.

Time and time again Scotland tried invading his former homeland. He just wanted his siblings back. But these attacks only enraged Rome. A few times he was captured and tortured but then usually released back up to his new freezing land. And then one day… Rome just up and left. He took all his men and left the small island in unfinished state of disarray. Rumors spread it was because Rome's boss was losing his grip. Scotland thought that the leaving of this cruel tyrant was the end of their troubles… but it was only just the beginning. A piece of Rome had remained… within their beloved brother England.

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_A/N- I hope I did okay! I got one more story to write and I hope to have that up soon! Please read and review and I look forward to more suggestions!_


	8. Fatherly Brother

_A/N- *steps out into the sunlight* Ack! It burns! Hey look I'm alive! I am so sorry to ChibiScotland for taking so damn long to finish this. I sort of lost of my writing muse and it was hard to write anything. Also sorry for this being relatively short. If you want another one, I'm happy to do so._

_**!WARNING!**_

_This chapter actually contains swearing! Scottish swearing but still swearing none the less. If this bothers you, I wouldn't recommend reading. _

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If there was thing to be said about England… it was about their love of naming pubs oddly. 'The Rat and the Parrot', 'The Queen's Head' and my personal (immature) favorite, 'The Cock and the Bull'. One such pub, named Bucket of Blood, was full one Friday evening with lots of drunken countries. One particular country sat quietly in the corner away from the rest of the group enjoying a strong malt whiskey. This was his fifth glass so needless to say he was on the tipsy side. And a drunk Scotland, was never good.

He could rival England, Russia and Ireland as an angry drunk. However, Britain saw this as an opportunity. The booze might have loosened up his brain and he could finally enact his revenge on his older brother for constantly bullying him these past few decades. "Hey big brother, how are you old chap?" Britain asked placing a dangerous hand over Scotland's shoulders.

"Git tae fuck!" Scotland barked.

England yelped drawing his hand away as if the angry vibes radiating off the angry Scotsman could burn. Scotland was usually so calm and collected so this outburst of Gaelic swearing could only mean he was well and truly drunk. As terrifying as the older brother was, Britain had to use every fiber of his will power not to laugh at the strong Scottish accent slurring through.

"What's the matter brother? You seem a little tense…" England knew he was treading dangerous ground here but maybe if he cracked Scotland open he could reveal some dirty secrets to use against him.

"The economy is shite… government are a bunch of wankers… and I got a Sasunnach for a little brother."

"Sasunnach…?" England cocked an eyebrow.

"It's a derogatory Scottish word for Englishman." Ireland randomly chimed in.

England cocked his head before shaking it. He forgot sometimes when Ireland gets drunk he gets really smart. But it didn't last long before the red headed country started picking a fight with the equally drunk Germany. Oh why did he make that bet with America that he wouldn't drink for a week?

_"If you go one week without a single drop I'll let you top!" _

Right. Back to his angry brother. "We've all been hit hard. I've had to lend Greece even more money! Cheer up! Why don't you tell me what else is bothering you."

The blonde country wasn't actually expecting his brown haired brother to calm down. Scotland let out a heavy sigh staring into his whiskey. He closed his eyes, "Aodh's dying…"

The younger country gasped. Aodh was Scotland's elk companion. He saved Scotland's life many times and was the country's oldest friend. And the implications were even worse. When a country's pet started dying it meant the heart of the country was starting to die too. His spirit would live on but Scotland would no longer be able to see him like Japan.

"I did everything I could to preserve our way of life… but the times are changing too rapidly for me to keep up. He's strongest up North but I can barely ride him…"

Britain's heart sank. While Scotland didn't say it out loud he knew deep down his brother blamed him. He was the cause of Culann's death: Ireland's wolf. He began to wonder how Pendragon was doing: Wales's dragon.

"Cack…" Scotland managed to choke out.

While the man was not known for shedding tears, his hands began to shake as he lifted the glass to his quivering lip. England gently reached out and took his hand. To keep Scotland from wasting himself anymore he quickly finished the glass himself, no longer caring about America's petty bet. His brother needed him.

"Everything will be okay. Go back to him and make sure he's comfortable. You shouldn't waste these last few years with him sitting in a seedy bar." Britain said in an uncharacteristically mature manner.

Scotland stared down at his little brother. There was still that innocence in his eyes from when he was a child. It was small but still there. The older country nodded before standing carefully.

"Don't think this changes anything between us though you buftie." Scotland said with very little venom. "I still hate you."

"Just go already old chap!" England smiled watching his brother leave as he took another sip of the whiskey.

"HA! I win! Guess whose on top now!" America shouted from behind him.

Damnit. When did he get here?!

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_Its short but I'm quite happy with it. ((alsosubtlenotsosubtleamericaxenglandslippedinthe re))_

_If you have any suggestions please send them. I promise to try and write them faster. If I don't have the next chapter out by next Wednesday, first person to point this out gets a free story with no holds bar (so they can break any of my rules set in Chapter 1). _

_Until next time!_


	9. This is Halloween

_AN- HAHA I DID IT! And I'm really happy with this piece. I wanted an Ireland story and my Irish friend and I were talking about various Irish mythology creatures and how Halloween is originally a Celtic holiday. And this story was born. Enjoy_

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"Yo Ireland!" America shouted slinging an arm around the red head's neck. For a loud man, he was very good at sneaking up on people who didn't want him. "So looking at our past Halloween Party's history and realized you haven't hosted a party yet!"

"There's a reason for that you git." Ireland growled slightly. He was… a little testy when it came to Halloween. The stupid American had turned his sacred holiday into a commercial holiday for children; undermining the actual danger.

"Its because you're planning something AWESOME right? Yeah! That's it! Doubt it'll be better than mine though." It was like talking to a brick wall with the larger country. "Anyways, we'll be at your house around 3pm; just in time for sunset."

"What?! No! Nonononononononono!" Ireland protested as the blonde country started walking away.

"It better not suck!" America laughed as he left to go tell everyone.

"Shite…" Ireland muttered. There was just no stopping that idiot. Not to mention, Hallows Eve was only three days away. Ireland raced back to his house into his basement library containing all his spell books.

"What's the matter?" Culann asked as he followed Ireland in having seen his panic.

"I tried talking him out of it but America wouldn't listen!" the red head explained running from one side of the room to the next gathering dusty book after dusty book.

"…out of what exactly?" Culann asked a little nervous from Ireland's uneasiness.

"The fool is making me the host of this year's Halloween Party! And he has no idea how dangerous this place is then!" Ireland opened several books and began scribbling runes on parchment paper.

Culann's eyes widen. Hearing this he immediately darted outside and began digging a ditch around the house. He made it about four feet deep before connecting it to the nearby river. Spirits can't cross running water and the large black wolf was in no mood to fight them off. Normally on Hallows Eve, he and Ireland would just remain in doors by the fireplace eating Barmbrack until it passed. Ireland was soon outside carving several runes into the dirt on the outside of the newly formed river to keep some of the more evil spirits out.

With Scotland and Wales, he went out and got come Pumpkins to make Jack-o'-lanterns. The American tradition for these was not far off from the original lore. Ireland's home was so dangerous on Hallows Eve. It was the one time, other people could see the spirits he saw everyday. Some of them were merely playful and meant no harm like a few fairies but others were bent on revenge and killing anyone in their way. The day before Halloween everything was prepared; protection wise. Now to add a few decorations and prepare food and drinks. His hope was, if the party, as America put it, "sucked" they might all leave early.

Wales raised a sign asking, "What are you going to dress up as brother?"

Ireland stopped to think. He had been so busy with preparations he didn't think what to dress up as. It wouldn't really be a Halloween party without costumes. Wales showed off a cute sheep costume she had made while Scotland decided to go for BraveHeart. Even Culann had gotten into the spirit of it deciding to try a new spell, which allowed him to turn into a human for one day.

Since he wasn't a spell caster like Ireland, it wasn't that strong leaving him as a human with wolf ears and a tail. The wolf examined himself in the mirror before chuckling. He had long black locks and wore a tattered brown kilt looking almost very similar to Scotland's costume. _How ironic… He had turned into Cu' Chulainn; the man who in the legend slain the great wolf Culann with a hurling ball. _Scotland was a little annoyed his costume idea was taken however the wolf tail and ears set them apart so it was okay.

Ireland thought long and hard for a moment. Everyone's first guess would be for him to dress up as a leprechaun, which he downright refused to do. He would also need some weapons to fight any spirits that managed to get through. Then an idea came to him before he cast a spell causing long black robes with red lining to roll down his body before tightening around his arms and mid-drift. His hair was slicked back and dyed black before a gold ring appeared around his blue eyes. And to top it all off, his canines grew into long sharp fangs. With a final few touches of gothic jewelry his costume was complete as Dracula.

"About time your clothes suited your skin colour." Scotland jested.

Ireland hissed at his younger brother though had to admit it did look good on him. Not quite the original description from the legend but he wasn't about to look ugly for a party. Nice thing was, the robe provided a good place to hide some weapons and could be easily torn off at a moment's notice. Around his hip he made sure to keep plenty of bags of fairy dust and runes.

At last everything was ready. The decorations were cheap and basic; nothing truly scary. Given it was late October, by 3pm the sun was already starting to set, painting everything in a purplish hue. Ireland shifted uneasily sensing the forest surrounding his home come to life with all the spirits. Culann stood beside his friend and took his hand in a comforting manner. It felt so weird being able to say he could hold his "wolf's hand". He wondered if anyone would be able to recognize Culann in this form.

Well he'd know soon enough. A large group of country started approaching his house. The path was lined with runes to protect them as they arrived. Ireland just had to kick everyone out before midnight. The spirits had been at play all day but the daemons would come out after the midnight toll. It was then all hell would break loose; almost literally. First to arrive were Britain (dressed as a pirate) China (dressed as a panda) and Russia (dressed as Vlad the Impaler).

"Welcome to my party." Ireland did his best to greet his guests warmly. "There's drinks and snacks inside and the party will be held in the main foyer."

Russia loomed over Ireland, which sent shivers up his spine. "This party had better be good… or else." And then he smiled which made everyone panic. "I kid, I kid."

Even Culann whimpered tucking his tail between his human legs and hiding behind Ireland. No one knew what it was about that silver haired country that scared them all shitless. Oh good… more guests. The next group to arrive was the Axis; Germany (wearing lederhosen), Italy (a chef's costume) and Japan (a traditional Samurai).

"My, don't you have a cute costume!" Italy exclaimed walking up to the unrecognizable Culann and about to pet him.

Culann growled loudly baring his sharp fangs which sent Italy screaming and hiding behind Germany, "GERMANY! GERMANY THE DOG TRIED TO EAT ME! THIS IS WHY I PREFER CAAAAAAATS!"

Germany sighed heavily. This was going to be a long night if everything scared him like so. Last to arrive was Canada (dressed as a Monty) and America (dressed as Captain America… _surprise, surprise…_). Ireland refused to have any more guests. Thirteen people was enough… He took a deep breath and began counting to four, four times before gently patting a hidden four leaf clover in his pocket. The nervous country joined his guests inside the foyer. Already they were helping themselves to drinks and food and enjoying the cliché Halloween music. But it wasn't long before the countries got bored and started wandering around. Ireland was struggling to keep track of them and Scotland was starting to get too drunk to help.

It was times like this Ireland wished his siblings believed in the spirits he saw. They all thought he was crazy; well except for England. The pirate dressed Englishman seemed a little nervous too. Finally he pulled the redhead aside.

"Now big brother, can you tell me if this place is actually safe?" Britain asked trying not to sound as scared as he was.

"No, its not. But the idiot American wouldn't listen to me. So long as everyone stays within the seals we should be okay…" Ireland soon swallowed those words as he heard Italy's loud screeching.

"Hey look Japan! These look like your drawings! Ve~!" In his hand he held several of the rune drawings Ireland worked so hard on.

Uh oh… Culann and Ireland shared a look as they quickly bolted outside. While most of the spirits couldn't cross the river they made, a few of the mischievous ones were already playing on the grounds. Faeries ran around the yard dancing to the music coming from inside the house. Ireland shouted at them, ordering them to leave in his native tongue. When that didn't work, Culann shed his human form and gave a loud bark, which sent them all screaming and running away.

It was at this time, Italy found his way to the other side of the house. He caught sight of the little faeries disappearing into the surrounding woods but was more intrigued when he saw two beautiful women standing across the small river. Immediately he ran over to them.

"Good work Culann." Ireland smiled petting his head.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Italy shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"Not again!" Ireland and Culann shouted in unison.

This time, everyone was drawn outside hearing the Italian screaming. Italy was fleeing for his life along the river as Dearg Due and Leanan Sidhe chased behind him with fangs bared. Of course Italy would try flirting with the two deadliest female vampires.

"ITALY CROSS THE RIVER!" Ireland shouted.

But unfortunately, Italy was screaming too loudly to hear his command.

"Don't worry I'll save you because… I'M THE HERO!" America boasted jumping between the two women and the crying country. He raised his plastic shield actually believing it could protect him. The two vampires shared a look before unhinging their jaws and growling loudly at America. Ireland face-palmed and then casted a spell which zig-zagged through the dirt cutting across the river and splitting it so they couldn't cross to get America.

For America actually used his head and jumped across the river to the safe side. "This is why I didn't want to have the party here!" Ireland scolded.

Germany had already run off in search Italy who thankfully wasn't that hard to track with his screaming. No sooner had Ireland released a sigh of relief, another scream bellowed out: this time from inside the house. Confused, Ireland ran in only to find Russia was looming over Canada giving a creepy smile. He hadn't a clue what was said or done but right now Ireland didn't care. There was bigger fish to fry. The whole night he spent running from country to country saving them from various spirits they so foolishly ran into. Especially when America kept challenging them.

It wasn't until he came up against a huge Banshee that he ran away screaming, "GHOST!"

Ireland and Culann used everything in their arsenal to try and keep the spirits at bay. It was exhausting. And just when he had used all his powers and was on his last legs (which was oblivious to his drunken party guests) the sweet church bells tolled across the land signaling it was time for the spirits to return. Ireland and Culann collapsed against each other completely spent. When the spirits faded into the fog, a loud cheer erupted.

"You're kidding me right…? They all thought that was a show?!" Culann panted.

"Great party dude! You should host next year's party!" America exclaimed. "I've never been so scared in my whole life."

"Yes I quite agree. Though next time don't work so hard." China added.

Ireland and Culann shared a look before completely passing out. They were going to make sure this was never going to happen again.

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_AN- I had a lot of fun with this story. There were going to be more creatures and stuff but it was late when I wrote this and I was running out of time. Anywho, as always please read and review and I'd love to hear some suggestions! _


	10. One with the Faeries

_AN- I had a ton of fun writing this story. Actually this is the original story idea what sparked me wanting to write these one shots but with all the requests... and my pure laziness... it sort of got pushed to the back of my mind. But now, here it is. This story takes place before Ancient Rome attacks when England is still a child and Ireland, Scotland and Wales live together happily. _

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"Come on out little faeries. Winter is over." Ireland said quietly as he lay in the middle of the forest clearing.

The sun was high but the air was still cold yet the country could feel a warm breeze swelling in the air. Spring was on its way. There only remained a few patches of snow now where the snow could not reach yet and life slowly began blooming around him. Ireland rolled over onto his back reflecting on how much he loved this time of year. He breathed in the crisp air feeling anticipation for what was to come. For what seemed like forever, he sat in total stillness; just listening to the forest around him.

And then suddenly he heard a soft bell jingle. A smile curled on his lips as he jumped to his feet and pulled out a tin whistle from his pocket. Ireland took a deep breath, readying his fingers at the right holes but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps followed by a small voice.

"What are you doing here big brother?" Little England asked stepping into the clearing.

"Oh England. You're just in time!" Ireland exclaimed pulling his little brother into the center of the patch of grass. "You're about to witness something very magical."

The red headed country didn't care that Scotland and Wales didn't believe him or thought he was crazy. He knew exactly what he saw and knew they were real. The blonde looked around with childish wonder in his eyes. His big brother had begun teaching him magic. Was Ireland preparing to do another really cool spell? What was with the flute though? He raised his bushy eyebrows hearing a tiny jingle. The elder country smiled hearing the jingle again raising the whistle to his lips and began playing a very simple melody.

The jingles grew louder and it sounded like more started surrounding them. Then suddenly a light whizzed past the child's face. The little country gasped and started laughing as more lights joined; seemingly dancing along with Ireland's tune, which had steadily picked up in speed. England was mesmerized, especially when the lights began to take shape into tiny people was glittering wings. Fairies! One such fairy decided to zip over to England and examined him curiously with her insect like eyes. The little country held out his hands allowing her to land.

He giggled. Her tiny feet tickled a little as she danced in the palms of his hands. The tune suddenly kicked up to a proper fast jig causing all the fairies to scatter around the forest, leaving trails of glitter behind them. Ireland casted a spell on his whistle causing it to hover and continue playing the lively tunes which had spread through the whole forest.

"Come with me!" Ireland laughed excitedly taking England's hand.

The two brothers ran through the forest watching the fairies work their magic; ridding winter and bringing spring into bloom. Snow melted and flowers began to grow right before their very eyes. Soon other creatures began to appear. England wondered why he never saw them before or why Scotland or Wales never mentioned such magical creatures. Before long, they arrived at a strange twisted tree full of holes.

"Here… is where faeries are born…" Ireland said quietly as they slowly approached the tree. For a moment… nothing happened. England's green eyes searched the tree frantically hoping not to miss it. "Look there's one!" Ireland smiled pointing at one of the holes in the bark.

England squinted, just managing to catch the glimpse of a tiny fairy crawling out from the bark. She stretched her arms and wings, rubbed her eyes then suddenly took off into the sky. "WOW!" England screamed loudly before covering his mouth.

Ireland merely smiled as an explosion of light erupted from the tree and hundreds of new creatures burst forth; some taking to the skies, others scurrying into the forest. The blonde kept his eyes on the skies finding it more fascinating. His smiled suddenly dropped when he noticed one of the faeries had been shoved aside causing it to fall from the sky.

"Oh no!" England cried.

Suddenly he took off towards the falling green mass. He wasn't going to make it! In a desperate attempt, England threw himself forwards; arms stretched out. The fall had caused him to close his eyes before he felt great relief when he felt the faery land in his small hands. Slowly he opened his eyes before gasping a little. In his hands… sat a little mint green bunny… with wings! The little bunny rubbed its head with its paws before looking up at his savior. He blinked once. Twice. And then on the third time hopped up England's arm and give him a little thank you lick.

England laughed as the green bunny flapped its tiny wings and began hovering around his head as he climbed to his feet. "Thank you!" The little bunny squeaked.

The blonde country blinked. Wait… did that bunny… just… talk?! "Ah… um… you're welcome…"

Ireland smiled walking over to his little brother, "you know, when you save a faery's life, they'll stick by your side no matter what. You two are now bonded forever."

"Yay!" Little England cheered. "I'm going to call you… Flying Mint Bunny!"

The red head giggled. It was so a name a child would pick but that made it all the more cute. Suddenly he felt something sharp prod his back causing him to spin around.

"Uni!" Ireland threw his arms around the white unicorn smiling widely. It was rare his unicorn friend ever came to visit him due to Culann always wanting to eat her. Soon the magic flute had found its way over to the tree and all the faeries had finished their work. Ireland and England began dancing around with them all. They had so much fun.

"Ireland! England!" Scotland shouted wandering into the woods with Wales. The two younger siblings had been looking for the pair all day. Fields needed to be plowed and prep for summer was needed. They soon heard the music and followed it to the large clearing with the giant tree in the middle. The two countries stopped at the edge looking very concerned and slightly worried. Ireland and England danced around without a care in the world to a magical floating flute. The really weird part though was it looked like they switching between dance partners…

"Great… now big brother's tainted little brother…" Scotland mumbled with a sigh.

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_AN- Thank you guys so much for your support throughout this. I do love reading reviews and it keeps me going. Please keep reviewing and or sending me story suggestions!_

_Also, to the guest who said they imagined Wales really __**loving**__ her dragons... was that a story request? I wasn't entirely sure ^_^;_


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